


So Much For Bagels

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9768140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Clarke doesn't have a social life, post-college, but she does have a lot of podcasts and a dude she's kind of working with at her local bagel place. That's a start, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, my lovely friend Erin cohosts the excellent t100 podcast [Meta Station](http://metastation.tumblr.com/), which is an great thing to listen to if you like smart people yelling about the show. And she sometimes yells about Bellarke, but does not say it how I do, which I was teasing her about, and I compared it to [how Britta says bagel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwSej13LRpE) on Community. To which she of course replied that she ALSO says bagel like Britta does, and I told her I would write a Bellarke AU that both involved bagels and somehow referenced her podcast, so she would be required to say Bellarke Bagel AU on the air.
> 
> And when I make a promise like that, I fucking deliver on it.

Clarke Griffin isn't good at making friends, which would have been a great reason for her to move somewhere she knew other people after she finished college. A built-in social circle would help a lot, in terms of her having a life outside of work. She's terrible at a life outside of work.

But she and her girlfriend broke up last year, and Wells is going out of the country, and she didn't have anyone else she felt like she could really _follow_ anywhere. She had people she knew, but she didn't have that kind of friend.

So she finds a job in a new city, rents a one-bedroom apartment, and starts listening to podcasts.

She does audiobooks first, but she has so much _time_ at work where she can be listening to things. Her audible credits are eaten in about four days, and she won't get more for another month, and her finances aren't so great that she wants to put a ton of money into buying more. Podcasts are free, and plentiful, and make her feel, weirdly, like she has friends.

"Wow," says Wells, when she mentions it. "That's honestly the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"Remember when I told you my dad died?"

"Well, he was sick for a while," he says. "So we saw that coming."

She snorts out a laugh. "Okay, so the fact that I'm listening to podcasts instead of making friends is sadder than my dad dying of cancer. Glad we figured that out."

"That's what I'm here for. Perspective." He frowns at her, disapproval coming through on skype across timezones and oceans. Technology is great. "Seriously, you're doing okay?"

"I'm not dying of loneliness," she says. "I've got coworkers. And I've got you and Lexa and Monty remotely. Monty mostly exists on the internet anyway."

"Still."

"I'm fine, Wells. I just suck at downtime, you know that. Social interaction is a good way to avoid having nothing to do. But so are podcasts."

"Yeah, those are the only two options." He sighs. "Anything good? What should I be listening to?"

Clarke gives him a few recs she thinks he'll like, but mostly keeps quiet about it. Her podcast interests are fairly eclectic, and it's vaguely embarrassing. She started with nominally educational ones, the kind where she feels like she's _enriching herself_ or whatever, and those were the ones she gave Wells, but it wasn't not long before she's getting into bad movie takedowns and TV show things.

Meta Stations is the first podcast she gets into in the first episode, so she feels a special connection to it. It's launched by a guy she's seen in the subreddit for a BSG podcast she listens to, _freckless-blake_ , who always has pretty decent opinions and will throw down at the drop of a hat about any kind of social justice issues, which means that a bunch of people are saying they're not going to listen to his new project, because he's an SJW or something.

So obviously, Clarke _is_ going to listen to it, if for no other reason than because she hates the same people he hates.

And it's an interesting concept, too. He's looking at Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Babylon 5 as two early serialized shows that were doing very similar and different things in the same time frame, and how they shows resonate now in the era of prestige, serialized TV. Clarke remembers watching DS9 with her father, but she knows nothing about Babylon 5, except that it's generally well-regarded and has a bisexual woman, and she's kind of excited to delve into it with the podcast.

It's just like watching a TV show with friends, except actually really pathetic. There's no way she's telling Wells about it.

The first episode is only about twenty minutes long, more of an introduction than an episode, and it's Blake and his friend Miller basically just arguing about how they're going to do the show, if they need to do, in Miller's words, _every fucking episode of every show_ , and Blake shooting back that they can't just pick and choose what's important.

"Are you telling me you want to watch TKO, Blake?" Miller asks. "TKO? Your show has some fucking shitty episodes."

"Oh, _my_ show?" Blake asks. "Profit and Lace. Fuck, basically every Ferengi episode."

"This is what I'm saying. What are we going to have to say about some of these? You can talk about the start of prestige TV all you want, but the first couple seasons are rough, and there are tons of episodes with basically no arc-relevance and nothing cool happening."

"Your mom has no arc-relevance and nothing cool happening," says Blake, easy.

"Wow, solid burn."

"It's DS9's first two seasons that are basically episodic, right?" he asks, after a short pause. He has a rough, deep voice that Clarke would like more if it didn't make her wonder if he smokes like five packs of cigarettes a day, but it's still kind of hot.

"Something like that, yeah."

"Okay, so, I think we still need to cover it, but we can do two episodes of DS9 for each one of Babylon 5, and then we get into season two for Babylon 5 and season three for DS9, and that's when the serialization gets good. And then uh, DS9 runs for seven seasons, so we can do all the weird Babylon 5 supplemental stuff."

"This is so much more planning than I care about doing for this," Miller says. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

"We went to college together and live on opposite sides of the country now," Blake explains. "So this is him missing me and wishing I lived closer."

"Yeah, I'm pining away."

"I love you too." He clears his throat. "This seems doable right? Three episodes a week. You guys are listening to a podcast about twenty-year-old TV shows, so you can't have lives. But if the pacing gets too tough, we'll switch to every other week. Discussion questions for the first podcast include what the fuck was up with Delenn's makeup in The Gathering and how much of a plan DS9 had going in. See you next Tuesday."

"You're going to be such a good teacher," Miller says, and Blake huffs.

"Shut up."

Watching the weekly episodes eats up another few hours of Clarke's weeks, and it's interesting, if a little rough at first. Blake and Miller are both adamant that the content improves in later seasons, and even if she hated the shows, she'd like _them_. They're both queer men of color with a lot of opinions on science fiction as a tool to deal with modern issues, and they're smart and interesting and clearly great friends who love baiting each other, which is fun to listen to. And their cryptic references to future episodes, both good and bad, are enough to keep her invested in seeing where everything goes.

It's still not really a social life, though, which is why she starts going to grab lunch at her local bagel place on Saturdays. She knows exactly what Wells would say about how pathetic this is, as a socializing method, so she doesn't bother telling him, but--she does _like_ it. She goes there to grab breakfast on her way to work most days, and she was regretting not being able to sit down there, because it's cute, with a nice vibe, and she always feels more like a person if she's in public.

Wells might be right; she needs a real social group. And, luckily, the bagel place is the right place to start, because after a month of going in on Saturdays, her favorite barista says, "Is it really that good?"

Clarke blinks at him. He's her favorite for no reason except that he's hot and is always scowling when he thinks no one is paying attention to him, which she finds vaguely endearing. Watching him snap to attention when people come in is really funny.

"Sorry, what?" she asks.

"You come in at least four times a week and always get the same thing. How are you not tired of it yet?"

"It's a bagel with cream cheese," she says. "What is there to get tired of?"

"The total lack of variety in your life? I don't know. It just seems like a waste to buy the same thing every day for breakfast _and_ lunch."

"It's just lunch on Saturdays."

"Oh, yeah, never mind. That's totally cool, then."

It's the longest they've ever talked, and Clarke finds herself reluctant to give it up. He has a nice voice, deep and a little rough, strangely familiar, even if she can't place it. And he's smirking with just one side of his mouth, which is a great look on him.

"So, do you have a recommendation, or are you just judging me?"

He makes a show of thinking it over. "Mostly judging," he says, without remorse. "I'd give you suggestions, but I don't know what you like except cream cheese."

"And that's not enough for you to go on?"

"Well, I'd say you should branch out to sandwiches. If you're having lunch."

"What's your favorite?"

"BLT with avocado and mayo on toasted everything," he says, instantly.

"You know, from how fast you said that, I'm guessing it's what you get every time, so it's weird that you're telling me I should be switching it up."

"I get that every time because I've tried a variety of things and know my options. You're sticking with the safest possible choice."

"How dare I."

"I'm just saying."

She nods. "Okay, give me the BLT. And a large half and half."

"Sure. Name for the order?"

It's not even crowded; Clarke deliberately comes after the lunch rush. "You've never needed that before."

He doesn't miss a beat. "Name for my personal edification?"

She has to smile. "Clarke. With an e."

"Cool, Clarke with an e. Your sandwich will be up in a minute."

Over the next few months, she manages to find out that his name is Bellamy, he's in grad school, getting his PhD in history, and he's planning to be a history professor even though academia is a nightmare-ish bureaucratic clusterfuck.

"You really have a way with words," she observes. There's a counter with seats near the register, and she's started sitting there when he's working. 

He gets more attractive every time.

"Yeah, I'm a poet." He pauses. "I guess that was not an appropriate thing to say to a customer."

"What, that you're a poet?" she teases, and he grins.

"Yeah. Totally prohibited."

"I won't tell." 

"Thanks." He glances around, making sure no one needs to be served, and then grabs a rag and starts wiping down the counter, so it looks like he's working. "What about you?"

"More of an artist than a poet."

"Yeah? Is that what you do?"

"Oh, no. I work in the walk-in clinic."

"Huh. Doing what?"

She smiles. "Billing and insurance. I'm still making up my mind about med school, so this is a compromise with my mother. I'm getting experience in health care and deciding if I want to do it for a career."

"It sounds terrible. No offense."

"You just referred to your chosen field as a nightmare-ish bureaucratic clusterfuck."

He shrugs. "Yeah, so I should know."

It's nice, not quite _friendship_ , but something beyond a standard employee/customer relationship. It's some social interaction that isn't on the internet or with coworkers, and even if she never figures out how to advance the friendship to the next level, it's still nice.

A couple weeks into January, he asks, "So, how much of an artist are you?"

Clarke blinks at him. She was watching DS9 on her phone while he worked, but the lunch rush has died down, and now Bellamy is watching her, thoughtful.

"I don't know how to answer that question," she says, finally.

"Lincoln used to do our holiday decorations, but he got a new job. So now the boss wants me to put up stuff for Valentine's Day, and I have no fucking clue what to do."

"And you think I do?"

He shrugs. "Maybe you're an artist who works with construction paper and sharpies. But with my luck you're into experimental modern art and just want me to hang taxidermy animal parts from the ceiling as a reflection on how society divides our souls from our bodies or something."

"For someone with no ideas, you sure came up with that one fast."

"But you can see why I'm looking for help," he says.

"Yeah, that would be a disaster." She wets her lips. "What kind of help do you need?"

"All the help I can get. I don't know what I'm doing."

On the one hand, it's maybe weird to offer her actual _services_ assisting him. On the other, he brought it up, so it's not like her agreeing is going to be weird. It was literally his idea.

"When are you doing it?"

"I don't know. Boss said ASAP, but he knows it's my first time. As long as it's up by the start of February, he's not going to be upset."

"Do you have a budget?"

"Uh, I have a box of old stuff in the back and I think like a hundred bucks in petty cash."

"Okay, cool," she says. "Show me the box of stuff, I'll go buy some supplies. You close at six, right?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, and she belatedly remembers that it's Saturday, and he probably has some kind of life. He's an attractive twenty-something guy who has a built-in social group from grad school. He probably has a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or just _friends_.

She's about to say as much when he grins. "Yeah, six. You don't mind sacrificing your Saturday night for this?"

"I'm assuming you'll make me another BLT for dinner."

"Or you could broaden your horizons. But yeah, I'll provide food." His smile is a little shy. "You really don't have to do this. I was just looking for some pointers."

"Yeah, but your only idea involved hanging animal parts from the ceiling. I'm going to be coming back here, Bellamy. I don't want to see your terrifying taxidermy project for another month. I can help."

His smile softens, gratitude all over his face. "Thank you. Really."

"No problem. Just give me the box."

The box is not particularly inspirational--a lot of weird, mostly naked cupids, and some old-looking paper hearts. It all feels really outdated, and Clarke doesn't really want any of it.

"This is a lot worse than your usual decorations," she says.

"Like I said, Lincoln was doing them before, he was updating all the old stuff. But he started working here at the beginning of the summer, so we don't have anything good to work with for Valentine's Day. Just--whatever that is."

"Okay, well. We're gonna go simple, okay? Just, like--construction paper hearts. Can I do them in rainbow colors? Or are you worried about homophobes?"

"Pissing off homophobes is a plus for me," he says. "I trust your judgement." He hands her five twenties from the register. "Here. Go nuts."

She has to smile. "You're not worried I'm going to take the money and run?"

"If you run, where are you going to get your breakfast?" he asks, and she ducks her head on a laugh.

"Okay, cool. I'll go see what I can get for a hundred bucks."

He catches her arm before she can go. "Seriously, thanks," he says, with an annoyingly disarming smile.

"No problem. It's a public service."

She doesn't really do much art these days, less because she dislikes it and more because she doesn't have a reason to, but she still loves buying art supplies, and she can spend hours in the craft store, just wandering around. She spends $75 there, and then goes to Goodwill and haggles for some cheap fabric in a variety of cheerful colors. Once she's found all that, she goes home, collects her own supplies, and thinks about getting changed for all of five minutes, until she reminds herself that Bellamy has already seen her today, so if she dressed up, he'd _know_.

She looks cute anyway. It's fine. No big deal.

By time time she gets back, it's 5:45, and Bellamy is cleaning up. She's never actually seen him out from behind the counter before, which doesn't really give her much new information, except that he's bending over and definitely has a very nice ass. Which she assumed he did, but it's nice to have confirmation.

"Hi, I'll be--" he starts, but he relaxes. "Oh, hey."

"Hey. Don't worry, I don't want to buy anything."

"Thank god. I really didn't want to make anything." His eyes widen slightly at the amount of stuff she's got. "I really wasn't expecting this much."

"Sorry, you asked for help from an artist. This is what you get."

"I probably should have warned you I have no artistic talent."

"You did warn me. I'm just expecting you to use glue and tape."

"Joke's on you. I'm going to glue everything to my face."

"Well, that's cool. You work here, so you should be decorated too, right?"

"Clearly."

"Where can I set up?"

"Wherever you want. We're closing in ten minutes. The world's your oyster." He worries his lip. "Seriously, I can't thank you enough."

"I don't mind."

"You're sacrificing your Saturday night to help decorate a place you don't even work at."

"Which is maybe a sign I didn't have much to do with my Saturday night to begin with," she says without thinking, and immediately regrets it. She's not _trying_ to look pathetic.

"Yeah?" he prompts.

"I just moved here a few months ago," she says, careful. "Haven't made a lot of friends yet."

"Huh. Should have said."

"I thought being a regular at a bagel place was kind of a giveaway."

"Nah, we have plenty of regulars with totally functional social lives. This is just you."

"Wow, I feel so much better."

He grins. "Sorry. The truth hurts. But I wasn't doing anything either, right? It's not like you're the only one."

"That actually does help a little."

"Awesome, I'm getting there." He locks the door and slides in across from her in the booth. "So, what can I do?"

It's a really fun night, and they get the place looking awesome, if Clarke does say so herself. Lots of rainbow hearts and glitter and general cuteness. And she and Bellamy chatted and flirted a little, and she's feeling a little optimistic about the next time she sees him.

He's not in Monday or Tuesday morning, but she does--kind of--see him. Or, rather, she _discovers_ him, because the new Meta Stations podcast goes up, three hours late, and Miller opens with, "So, this is probably going up late, and I'm sorry. We usually record on Saturday night, but _someone_ actually wanted to flirt with a girl."

"Shut up," says Blake.

"See, we have this _pact_ where we're losers with no life, so Saturday night is supposed to be for recording, but _someone_ has a thing for this girl who comes into the bagel place where he works and wanted to hang out with her."

"Yeah, I'm the worst."

Clarke's mouth goes dry, because--well, okay. There's nothing really definitive there. But--Bellamy's always sounded familiar, and now that she thinks about it, he sounds like _Blake_. His voice isn't as deep as Blake's, but that doesn't mean anything, right? Blake is in school, getting his PhD, and he wants to be a professor, just like Bellamy. It's not like there are only two guys in the world who work in bagel stores and are getting PhDs, but--it _could_ be Bellamy. They have a lot in common.

Including, maybe, her.

"Have you said bagel for her yet?"

"I'm going to murder you."

"Fun fact: Blake doesn't know how to say the word _bagel_. And, again, he works part-time at a place that sells bagels, so it's, like. Tragic."

"I say it a normal way!"

"He says it like Britta. From Community. It's amazing."

"I say it like I'm going to murder you."

"Did you at least get laid?"

"Shut up. Don't we have TV to talk about?"

"Did you strike out?"

" _No_. It's not like that. It's--" He huffs, and that sounds _exactly_ like Bellamy. She's so sure. "We're not talking about my fucking love life on air, Miller."

"You know, if you knew how to edit, you could edit this out."

"For the record, it was her idea," he says. "And there was no way I was going to tell a hot girl that she couldn't do me a huge favor because I had to go home and record my podcast. So, yeah. Sorry if this is late. I have no regrets. Let's get to it."

It would be, honestly, awesome. She likes Bellamy in a limited sense, but she doesn't know that much about him, except that he's attractive and sarcastic and generally seems like a good guy. But Blake is smart and insightful and shares a lot of her values, and if they're the same guy--

If they're the same guy, they should really be friends. And if he thinks she's hot, they should definitely be making out.

He's not in on Wednesday either, and she's running late on Thursday, so they just chat a little, but she doesn't get a chance to try to figure out if he's Blake. 

But Saturday: Saturday is definitely her day.

"BLT?" he asks, when she comes in.

"Yeah, thanks."

"I've been getting a lot of compliments on the decorations," he says. "So it's on the house."

She hums. "When were you getting compliments? You only worked one day last week."

"One morning. I had exams, so I was working afternoons." He smirks. "You missed me?"

"Desperately." She drums her fingers on the counter. On the one hand, it doesn't _matter_. It's not like she's going to stop liking him, if he doesn't co-host her favorite podcast. It's not a big deal at all. But--she really is curious. "You never say bagel."

He startles. "What?"

"I've been coming in for like six months, and talking to you for like four. And you've never said the word bagel."

"Of course I have."

She bites her lip on a smile. "You know, there's a really easy way to prove to me you _don't_ say bagel like Britta from Community."

"I have no idea why you'd think that." She can't read his expression at all.

"I'm hoping that I listen to your podcast," she says. "Not to be egotistical, but I hear it got delayed this week because a cute girl was doing one of the hosts a favor. At the bagel place where he works. So, you know. It sounded kind of familiar."

There's a long pause, and then he says "Jesus Christ, I'm going to kill Miller."

She grins. "Why?"

Another pause, and he seems to really be thinking it over. "Wait, do I not need to kill him?"

"I don't know why you would." ducks her head. "I started listening to your podcast because I always saw you fighting assholes on reddit, so, you know. I like online you, I like your podcast, and I like--" She gestures to him. "You. So as far as I'm concerned, it's good news."

"Oh." He lets out a short, sharp laugh. "Holy shit. You like my podcast."

"I like your podcast. Haven't you noticed me watching DS9 and Babylon 5 on my phone?"

"I'm usually working. I, uh--I thought I saw once, but then we got a rush, and I thought it would be weird to ask if you were watching Babylon 5 an hour later."

"And you're usually so smooth."

"I thought I wasn't doing that badly."

"No, you weren't. But that's mostly because I don't really go for smooth."

"What do you go for?"

She considers, but it seems stupid to lie, at this point. She's putting everything out there. "You."

His grin is huge and bright and perfect. "Yeah?"

"So far. I just have two concerns."

"Two?"

"Actually, three. First, why Blake?"

"My last name. Miller and I always call each other by last name. Bellamy Blake and Nathan Miller. And Bellamy's not exactly an inconspicuous name, so it's less stressful for me. Some online anonymity." He raises his eyebrows. "What else?"

"Why is your voice so deep on the podcast?"

He laughs. "Uh, well--I was really hungover the first day, and my voice was a wreck, so I just went with it. Continuity, you know? Once I had that voice, I had to stick with it."

"I knew you sounded familiar. I thought you just chain-smoked."

"Nope, no chain-smoking. Just bad planning." He cocks his head at her. "And the third thing?"

She grins. "How do you say bagel?"

"Exactly like Britta on Community." She doesn't say anything, just watches him, steady, and he puts his head down on the counter. "Baggle."

"Just checking." She opens her mouth and then shuts it. "You know, I was going to ask what you're doing tonight, but I realized I know what you're doing tonight."

"Yeah."

"How long does that usually take?"

"Three hours or so. We cut out a lot of awkward pauses. And some swearing and trash-talking."

"Wow, I can't believe there's even _more_ trash-talking we're missing out on."

"Yeah, the outtakes are basically just mom jokes and us calling each other asshole." He rubs the back of his neck. "I bet we could record another day."

"I could just come over after."

"We usually finish up around ten," he says. "You don't have to come that late. It's not like we'll have much time to hang out."

For a second, she thinks about not offering, but--well, she wants to. And he's totally interested. "I was figuring I'd stick around for the night," she says, and it's gratifying to watch his jaw drop.

"Oh, uh--" He clears his throat. "Then, yeah. Feel free to come over whenever you want."

She ends up just following him home with her laptop, listening with half an ear as he and Miller record the episode. When they're done, Bellamy settles next to her on his couch, and she tucks herself into his side. She'd say it's just as good as she thought it would be, but--she actually likes him more than she realized. He's _even better_.

"Good episode?" he asks.

"I liked all the bonus trash-talking."

"Special behind-the-scenes access." His thumb strokes her shoulder. "I already liked you, by the way. I was psyching myself up to ask you out. I was definitely going to get there. It's not just that you like my podcast."

"But it's a little bit that I like your podcast."

He smiles. "Just a little."

"Well," she says, leaning up for a kiss. "As long as it's just a little."

*

"So, it turns out Blake's crush actually likes the podcast, and ID'd herself from me teasing him a couple weeks ago, so if there are any cute guys in the Seattle area who have been pining after me, now's the time to tell me. He shouldn't be the only one benefiting from internet-fame."

"My girlfriend's got a friend in Seattle. I'll tell him to look you up."

"Anyway, _someone_ wants to actually have Saturday nights to get laid, so we're going to switch to posting on Thursdays. Blame Blake's new social life."

"You know every time you say _someone_ , it's just me, right? You're not fooling anyone. But yeah, sorry, guys. We're changing the schedule and it's totally worth it."

"If she likes the podcast, shouldn't she support it? She can work around us."

"It's almost like she likes me more than she likes the podcast."

"Sounds fake, but okay."

"That's what I thought. But apparently I really am that lucky."

"Maybe not. Has she heard how you say bagel yet?"

"Fuck you."


End file.
